Kiss Me Slowly
by dmlainey
Summary: On the fourth day of September in the year 2002, Hermione Granger discovered what it meant and how it felt to leave something one held so dear, and what people mean when they say that they'd left a part of themselves somewhere else. For on that fateful day, she left her heart at Malfoy Manor, at the hands of Draco Malfoy, and she feared that she was never going to get it back.


**Kiss Me Slowly**  
A Harry Potter Fan Fiction

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Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being derived from this work. All rights reserved to Jo Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series.

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I.

On the third of September in the year 2002, at precisely twenty-two minutes past eleven in the evening, trouble came knocking on Hermione Jean Granger's front door. Literally. She was finishing off a bottle of firewhiskey when she heard the loud rapping on her door, followed by the moans of someone who sounded like he or she was hurt.  
"Hermione!" the muffled voice called out.  
The brunette witch groaned as she decided between getting up from her seat and pretending not to hear the 'visitor'. She eyed the half-empty bottle of liquor longingly and decided to do the latter. The person on the other side of her door could wait, her firewhiskey couldn't, reasoned her alcohol-impaired mind.  
"Hermione Granger! Open up. I need your help!"  
Of course the person needed her help. They always do. It was always Hermione help me with this or Hermione help me with that. Well, Hermione was tired of being needed... of being so helpful... of everything. She took another swig from the bottle, determined to ignore the voice that Hermione had recognized as from the person she wanted to see the least at the moment.  
"Hermione... I'm dying out here..."  
She glanced at her firewhiskey. She was nearly done. About three more gulps and she'd successfully finished her very first bottle of alcohol. Well done, Hermione, she mentally congratulated herself. She opened her mouth and tilted the bottle upside down, pouring all its contents down her throat.  
In time with her slamming the bottle on the table top, a loud booming sound emanated from her front door. Dizzily, Hermione stood up, peeved that the 'visitor' was so persistent. She rested her hands on her hips and gave the intruder a sharp look. Right eyebrow raised, she said, "Really... Did you have to blow my door away?"  
Draco Malfoy returned her look with a cold one of his own. He pocketed his wand and clutched his side. His hand was immediately stained with the blood pouring from his wound. "I'm dying, Hermione. You could have at least opened the door for me."  
She was a bit rattled to see him injured, but determined to look as though she did not care at all, she waved him off. "You're a wizard, Draco. Surely you know a simple spell for the scratch of yours."  
He regarded her incredulously. "Scratch? What are you, blind?"  
"No, I'm not blind. But you certainly are daft. Why didn't you go directly to St. Mungo's?"  
"Too many nosy people in there. I'd rather keep this incident private. Especially that tomorrow..." He trailed off.  
The brunette let out a sarcastic laugh. "Of course. Astoria will be a nervous wreck if she hears that you're in St. Mungo's." She pointed toward the couch. "Sit there."  
Draco led himself to the couch and peeled off his cloak. His white shirt was soaked with blood on his right side.  
"You are such a nuisance, Malfoy. I shouldn't have given you a second chance when you begged for my forgiveness all those years ago."  
He glared at her. "What's done is done. We're friends now and as my friend, you are required to heal me right now."  
She pouted and turned her back on him. Against her will, she secretly casted a sobering charm on herself. All those hours and the bottle of firewhiskey wasted for nothing. She sighed. "What did you get yourself into?" She positioned herself beside him, wand out and pointed at the approximately six-inch gash on his side.  
He remained silent as Hermione casted a series of healing spells to mend his broken skin. She even charmed his shirt clean when she was done.  
"There. Just don't exert yourself too much. It wasn't like it was fatal. You surely overreacted." He just nodded, his eyes boring into hers. Hermione quickly looked away, unable to take his heated stare. "Go. You have to be early tomorrow."  
"Have you been drinking?" His eyes found the empty bottle on the coffee table. "Never mind. I know you did. You smell like shit."  
"Where did you get that wound?"  
"Bar fight."  
Her curiosity was piqued by his answer. "Why?"  
"I just felt like it," he said nonchalantly. "And why were you drinking?"  
She moved away from him and seated herself on the carpeted floor. "I was feeling a bit melancholic."  
Draco sat down beside her, his arm finding its way around her shoulders. "Are you really going tomorrow? The children in Cambodia could wait another day."  
She sighed before answering, "They need me there." Hermione pulled away from the blond wizard and gave him a light tap on the shoulder.  
He stared at her, hard and long. He looked like he was about to say something else but decided to keep it to himself instead. Hermione then stood up to carry the wine bottle to the kitchen, leaving Draco alone on the living room. Once out from the wizard's sight, Hermione sat on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, sighing as she did so. She stayed that way for about a minute or two, until she heard Draco bellow, "Have you finished packing up?"  
Quickly, she righted herself and shouted back at him. "Yes, just this afternoon!"  
"So you're really going!" he yelled again.  
Hermione went out of the kitchen, finding Draco already lying down on the carpeted floor although there was a good sofa nearby. "Yes, I am going, Draco. And you're really getting hitched. Now could you just stop asking the same questions?"  
"You're in a snit," he said, chuckling afterward. "You're angry about something. That's why you're drunk. Tell me, is it because I'm getting married tomorrow? You're afraid that you'll miss my constant presence in your day-to-day life?"  
"Yes, I'll miss your presence so much that I'm moving to Cambodia tomorrow. Yes, I'm pretty sure I'll miss you." She rolled her eyes.  
"Seriously, you'll miss me, right?" he still asked. Hermione could swear that she spied a pleading look in his eyes, begging her to answer his question truthfully. But maybe that was just an illusion on her part, her hidden desire messing with her mind and with her perspective.  
"Go home, Draco. You need to be up early tomorrow. You wouldn't want Astoria to wait for you, would you?"  
"Answer me, Hermione."  
"My answer doesn't matter."  
"Maybe it does!"  
Something inside her – alright, her heart – did a little flip at Draco's words, but she was determined not to let herself get carried away with insane ideas. "You and I both know it does not."  
He didn't say a word after that. Instead, he lied down horizontally on the coach and looked as though he were planning to spend his last night as a bachelor sleeping there.  
"You need to rest the night before your big day. You won't be comfortable there."  
He looked at her sharply, appearing as though he was pissed off about something. "I'll just wake up early tomorrow."  
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Alright then. Have a good night."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Hermione woke up at half past eight the next day. She stretched her limbs, yawning as she did so. And then her eyes caught the small pouch that contained her belongings for her trip that day. She frowned. She really was leaving London and she knew that she was not coming back for a long time if she could help it.  
She got up and found her way to her door, intending to go to the kitchen to prepare her breakfast. But then something caught her attention, something that she knew wasn't quite right at that very moment. She shook her head, attempting to clear her still-sleepy mind and once she had somehow vanquished the sleepiness away, Hermione recognized what was bothering her at once.  
The brunette's eyes travelled to the long body splayed out in her sofa, the body of the man who was responsible for her retreat from London, even if he did not know it. He turned in his sleep, probably disturbed by her footsteps, and murmured something under his breath. Draco looked innocent while asleep. Hermione's gaze lingered on the blond wizard's face, wanting to imprint this image of him in her mind.  
Hermione was disturbed by a loud banging on her newly-repaired door. Draco also groaned and covered his ears with his hands, trying to keep the noise from disrupting his sleep. The brunette check herself and when she ascertained that she looked presentable enough, she proceeded to open her door and found a seemingly sleep deprived Blaise Zabini on the other side.  
"Have you seen Draco? I've been looking for him everywhere since last night." She sneaked a look at the wizard on her couch. "I came here hoping that Draco somehow ended up going to you after he injured himself last night. I know the possibility's a bit slim, seeing as how the two of you are barely friends."  
Hermione pursed her lips. That was what everyone thought... that she and Draco were just being civil to each other. They were co-workers at the Ministry, have been partners since the day they were recruited by the Department of International Magical Cooperation after they finished up their seventh year at Hogwarts. Publicly, they still banter and always seemed to enjoy the other's misery, trying to one-up the other but what people didn't know was that despite their arguments, they had formed a deep understanding of each other in the three years that they had worked as partners. She had been with him when his mother died; he had lent her his shoulder to cry on when she and Ron broke up less than a year after their relationship started. They enjoyed the same things, argued about Ministry politics and take pleasure in riling each other up. But despite all these, it was as though they had a silent agreement to never get too familiar with each other in front of third persons. They both felt like they had to adhere to what the wizarding community thought of them – as enemies.  
They say that wizarding London post-Voldemort had changed, that everything and everyone were accepted for who they were, that there were no more prejudices... but these were all just theories. Hermione had seen how many piercing looks Draco had received from other people, had heard many whispers about how he was the boy who indirectly contributed to Albus Dumbledore's death and how he managed to let Death Eaters inside Hogwarts, about how he was the son of Voldemort's trusted soldier. She had been told not just once about how the Malfoy family's retreat from the war was just a ploy to avoid persecution by the Light side.  
She had seen how Draco had taken all these criticisms in stride; how he strived to change himself and prove that he was no longer the malicious boy that he was at Hogwarts. Bit by bit, she found herself fascinated by him... and the more she got to know him, that fascination led to something more, something she never dared to put a label on.  
The brunette debated whether to tell Blaise of Draco's presence in her house or not but before she was able to decide on anything, the blond wizard appeared by her side, hair still quite a mess and eyes still drooping.  
"Hermione, I need..." his voice trailed off when he saw who was at the door.  
Blaise Zabini was equally shocked. "M-mate..." was all he managed to say.  
"Blaise." Draco nodded solemnly.  
"Why don't you come inside, Blaise?" Hermione invited him in an attempt to appear as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.  
The dark-skinned wizard managed to put his composure in place. "Mate, you're getting married at nine. You should have been ready by now. Your father's looking for you."  
Hermione and Draco looked at the wall clock together and found that it was already forty minutes past eight. "Oh no!" the witch cried, giving Draco a worried look. "Draco, you need to get dressed!"  
"It won't take long," he replied calmly.  
"I'll see you at the Manor, yes?" Blaise eyes searched Draco's face. "You're showing up, right?"  
"Of course," Draco mumbled.  
Blaise nodded. "I'll leave him to you, Hermione. See you, mate. I'll tell your father you're getting ready."  
The moment Draco's friend left, Hermione grabbed her wand and held on to the blond's arm. "Apparate us to your room."  
"No way."  
She shook her head at him disapprovingly. "This is not the time for you to be antagonistic, Malfoy."  
He just lifted his eyebrow at her and didn't say another word. He fished for his own wand and not wasting another second, he Apparated them to his room at the Malfoy Manor.  
"Okay," Hermione placed her hands on her hips and her eyes searched the blond's bedroom. "There's your outfit. Best get into it, Malfoy. Leave it to you, Malfoy, to be late to your own wedding!" Hermione screamed as she frantically searched Draco's drawers for socks. "Where the bloody hell are your socks?"  
"Now, now, Granger... There's no need for such language."  
She finally found a pair of his socks. "Change, Draco. Now!"  
"Astoria can wait."  
"No, she can't! She has waited for you her entire life. Up to the last second, you're going to make her wait. You should be ashamed of yourself."  
Instead of grabbing his robes, Draco threw himself on his bed.  
"It's a quarter to nine. You're really running late."  
"I don't want you to go, Hermione. Stay. Please."  
She acted as though she heard nothing. "Where did you put your shoes?" she asked instead, going down on all fours to look under his bed for the missing shoes.  
"Don't go, Hermione."  
She reached for the box under his bed, suspecting that it contained his shoes. "It's not as if I'm not coming back, Draco."  
"I don't know. I feel as though you'll be gone forever once I let you go today."  
"You're imagining things." She let out a forced laugh. "And do you hear yourself? You're saying things that are so not you." She handed him his leather shoes.  
He sat up and took the pair from her and put them on. "Honestly, why did you have to go today of all days?"  
"I did not set the date, the organizers did. That being said, I should get going myself. We're leaving at ten and I still have things to take care of."  
"You won't even attend my wedding and you're here at the Manor already."  
And what? Torture myself while I watch you get hitched to Astoria?, she thought. This place was built to torture me. She remembered the time when Bellatrix Lestrange got her hands on her. The brunette shivered with the thought.  
But instead of voicing out her thoughts, Hermione gave her friend a kind smile as she sat beside him and gave him a quick hug. "Good luck to you and Astoria."  
Draco just frowned at her.  
Sighing deeply, she stood up and walked away from Draco... only to be stopped before she turned the knob on the door.  
"Hermione."  
She turned around and met Draco's piercing grey eyes. "Yes?"  
She watched as he stood up and slowly walked toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. No one said another word until he was just inches away from her and his hands had found their way to her shoulders, holding her still. "I –"  
The door suddenly opened, and as Hermione was just standing by it, the force sent her toward the blond. He quickly caught her, his arms snaking around her body for support.  
Blaise Zabini stormed inside the room, screaming his head off. "You're in love with Hermione Granger, you piece of shit!"  
Hermione gazed up at Draco, eyes wide with shock. But he wasn't looking at her. He was glaring at his friend who was, in turn, looking at the wall clock by the bedroom wall. The clock read nine o'clock in the morning.  
"Draco..." Hermione called out to the blond wizard who refused to meet her eyes. She could almost hear her heart strongly pounding on her chest. If what was Blaise saying was true then...  
She felt strong hands grip both of her shoulders and moved her aside, away from Draco's warm grasp. She looked back at Blaise, who was glaring at Draco with murder in his eyes as his fists reached out to the latter's shirt collar, their faces suddenly just a few inches apart.  
"You bloody fool! So it's Granger, then? All that senseless babbling last night pertained to Granger? Getting into a fight and leaving us at the bar while you were wounded... what has gotten into you? What do you plan on doing then? Everything is set for this wedding. What do you plan on saying to Astoria?" His fists tightened on Draco's collar, almost cutting off his air circulation but Draco's eyes were still transfixed to the wall clock.  
"Blaise, that's enough," she said as she tried to remove his hands from Draco. "We were just getting ready to go down to the ceremony. So if you could just leave and prepare yourself as well. It's already nine o'clock. The bride's waiting."  
He sighed deeply and followed her request. "He's in love with you, Granger. I swear to Merlin he is. Seeing his face last night, seeing the sad look on his face on the night before his wedding told me he was not entirely happy with his impending marriage to Astoria. When I saw you both at your house, I knew why. I was so stupid as to not have noticed how he'd always enjoyed telling us stories about the great Hermione Granger."  
She laughed. "It's because we're partners at work. You have some strange ideas, Blaise Zabini."  
"But –" Blaise's protest was cut off when Draco finally spoke.  
"Let's go, Blaise," he said, as though nothing happened. Blaise left reluctantly. Draco then purposely bumped Hermione as he briskly walked toward the door, infuriating the witch, who hurried after him.  
She caught up to him at the staircase and she hurriedly blocked his path. "What is your problem? I've been trying to be nice to you but you've crossed the boundary. How dare you deliberately bump into me like that!"  
"You're still going to Cambodia?" When she was unable to answer right away, he continued. "Have a good life, then." He gently pushed her aside and continued on descending the grand staircase but she hurriedly grabbed on to his arm.  
"Is it true? Is Blaise right? Are you in love with me?" she silently asked him, now unable to stop her tears from flowing.  
"I don't know. What I know is that you're special to me. If it is, what good would it do to me?" she heard him reply without him turning around to face her. "I found the right woman for me in Astoria."  
Hermione felt her heart shatter along with her hopes. "A-are you saying that I am not?"  
"The question is whether I am man enough to deserve someone like you, Hermione. And sadly, I am not. You've said it yourself. We're just team mates, nothing more."  
"Yes, you're not man enough to deserve me. I want a man who would fight for me, not someone who would give up without having started yet." she asked him, more tears staining her cheeks. "But why am I crying, Draco? Why does it feel like my heart is being stabbed right now? Why does it feel like hell everytime I think about your wedding to Astoria?"  
She was already screaming, unmindful of the possibility that someone of the guests might hear her. "Do you know how it felt when you told me you got yourself engaged to Astoria? Do you know how much it hurt everytime I see you prepare for your wedding? Do you know how many sleepless nights I had trying to control whatever this damn thing I'm feeling towards you because I know it is entirely inappropriate? Could you imagine the horror I felt when I realized that I'm starting to like to horrible Draco Malfoy?"  
Pulling at his arm, she forced him to face her. When he did, she took a step back as his steely grey eyes held her gaze. "Do you know how much any memory of you muddles my thoughts?" he began, sounding as though he didn't want utter the words. "Do you know how many sleepless nights I've had trying to put you out of my mind? Do you know how torturing it is to have your mere presence make me doubt my decision about marrying Astoria? I had planned my life down to the single detail but what have you done?" His hand gripped her left arm hard. "You have made me doubt something I knew I had to do since I was a boy."  
Hermione almost smiled, knowing that it was not only her who was bothered by their unlikely relationship, whatever it was. Growing more confident, she asked, "So what is it, Draco? Are you still marrying Astoria despite what you've just confessed? You'll be unfair to her."  
"As I've said, she's the right woman for me, Hermione."  
She felt her wall of confidence break down. Her shoulders sagged. What is it with people and their declaration that love conquers all? Apparently, it couldn't conquer Draco Malfoy's conservative and pragmatic stance.  
"You'll still marry her despite the fact that you like me?"  
She felt his grip tighten around her arm. "Could you assure me that I would hear nothing about how the great Hermione Granger lowered her standards to accommodate the likes of a lowly Draco Malfoy if I choose to pursue you?"  
She understood his fear. It was unfair, how he was still being judged for his past actions despite his atonement for all of them. It was unfair how people still positioned him at the lower rung of the proverbial societal ladder.  
"Could you assure me that you will never hate me for pursuing you, Hermione?"  
"I could assure you that I do not care about what other people think, Draco. I like you, and that's enough for me."  
Suddenly, Lucius Malfoy appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Draco, we're waiting for you." He acknowledged Hermione's presence with a bow, a courtesy which she returned. If he was surprised that she was there, he didn't show it. "Come on."  
"I'm in love with you, Draco. I hope it's enough for you to not push through with this wedding," Hermione whispered to him, her voice shaking as she made her confession. She felt relieved to have had admitted her true feelings at last, but it was also coupled with fear as she felt as though she was baring all of herself to Draco.  
There was pain in his eyes when she looked at them again. It was as though seconds had turned into hours as Hermione began to comprehend the message his eyes conveyed to her, time lagged when Draco squeezed her arm for the last time before he turned his back on her. The witch closed her eyes, trying to stop fresh tears from cascading down her cheeks.  
"So this is what falling in love is like," she whispered to herself. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took in a lungful of air to stop her tears. "Have a good life, Malfoy," she called out to him.  
Without another word, she Disapparated, knowing full well that it would be the last time she would see Draco Malfoy, if she had any say on the matter.  
She was familiar with the word leave, she could even recite its definition. However, it was the first time that Hermione Granger knew the real meaning of leaving. On the fourth day of September in the year 2002, Hermione Granger discovered what it meant and how it felt to leave something one held so dear, and what people mean when they say that they'd left a part of themselves somewhere else. For on that fateful day, she left her heart at Malfoy Manor, at the hands of Draco Malfoy, and she feared that she was never going to get it back.


End file.
